Start Chapter 4.
I own nothing, Joss is all. I love the Shakira song, "Whenever, wherever." This has no bearing on this chapter at all... To my big brother, Marty. I love you. We kick every type of booty. Thanks for always looking out for me, even when I didn't particularly need it. 'Nuff said. lol
The banging on his apartment door shook Xander out of a sound sleep, but didn't even slightly stir his gently snoring fiancee. Groaning, he pulled on a pair of boxers and stumbled to the door.
"Apocalypse?" he called groggily.
"It's gonna be damn near close," an accented voice snarled.
"What's the matter?" He swung the door open quickly, looking concerned-ly around the bleached blonde vampire, who, even standing, managed to look like a caged, angry animal.
"Dawn's little wanker boyfriend is picking her up tomorrow night. Well..." he glanced at a clock on Xander's wall. "Tonight. Can I come in?"
Inviting him in with a sweep of his arm, Xander groaned, "Tomorrow night? And you're here at... 2 am? Why should I not be staking you?"
"'Cuz I don't get the little wanker. He's not even awake. He's sixteen years old, and it's a Friday night, and he's asleep in his l'il bed, all tucked in and... He's too... clean smelling. I'm missing something. I never miss something." He began to pace, his duster billowing out dramatically behind him, swirling with his turns.
Collapsing on a near-by couch, Xander had to give him points for impressiveness. But, after a hundred years of unlife, if you didn't know how to make a statement, you never would. "Maybe," he ground out, rubbing a hand over his eyes, "he IS a good kid. **I** was a good kid when I was his age."
Spike stopped mid-pace and sneered. "Yeah... probably just dreaming about Red. Or Buffy... Or both."
Xander's blush belied his denials.
"Whatever, Harris. I don't really care. But if that wanker lays a hand on my Niblet..."
"I'll kill him," Xander interrupted.
"The bleedin' hell you will. The bugger's mine. I swear... chip or no, he goes down."
"Yeah..." They sat, brooding.
Anya found them that way an hour later, both glaring into space, grunting at each other occasionally.
"Ummm.... What's going on?"
"Dawn's got a date tonight. That little worm."
"But, Xander..." Anya was confused. "I thought this was big part of her... adolescent phase. Will she have sex like we have sex?"
"NO!!" Spike and Xander shouted at the same time.
"That girl isn't allowed to have sex until..." Spike paused. "Never. Never. She's not allowed to have sex. Not till I die." He smiled smugly. "And I'm immortal. So haha to that hormonal little wanker."
Rolling her eyes, Anya went to make coffee.
Dawn viewed herself critically in the standing mirror in her room, Buffy at her side.
"I like it."
"Me, too," Buffy agreed. It was, indeed, a cute outfit. Granted, it was hers, but it still looked great on Dawn. She frowned. The tan pants and black stretchy lace top looked a little too good. "You're never allowed to wear that again."
"Why?" Dawn turned puzzled eyes on Buffy.
"Because. I can't have you going around looking better in my clothes than I do."
Dawn just grinned. Only ten more minutes till Andrew came...
"Hey, Buffy.... Spike said he was gonna be here."
"He will be then. He's probably... running late." 'And a background check on poor Andrew.'
The door flew open and Spike rushed in, then upstairs. "Is that little punk here?"
"No. He should be here in a few minutes."
As the words fell out of her mouth, the doorbell rang. Spike glared in the general direction of the downstairs once, then began to shove the door shut on Dawn, who was trying to get downstairs.
"Stay put. Buffy and I need to meet with him, you can come down when I call for you."
Buffy smiled sympathetically, and closed the door, Dawn stuck in her room.
Buffy stayed in the kitchen, letting Spike handle the first round. Smiled at his brassed off British tone as he ripped the door open. She listened intently, shamelessly eavesdropping.
Spike did indeed rip the door open, but not before pasting on his most intimidating human glare, his teeth still human, but... eerily elongated.
After opening the door, his scarred eyebrow arched in feigned interest, he stood, silent.
"Hello," the boy said uncertainly. This was indeed the boy Spike had smelled the night before. His... clean-ness tainted by the fear dripping off of him now. At one time, this was *the* most pleasurable experience of his unlife. Scare a poor innocent, then eat them. Yum. But now, it was business.
"Andrew?"
"Ye-yes." He fidgeted, still on the doorstep.
"Well, are you coming in or not? Andrew what?" Spike swung the door open to let the ponce walk in before him, to the living room.
"O'Reilley?"
"Hmmm..." Immediately disliking the boy on the basis his last name bore to Buffy's former, his eyes glinted gold. "And where might you be taking Dawn, Andrew? The movies? Dinner? Lover's Lane?" He stood over the sitting boy.
"No! I mean... No."
"Where then?"
"Laser tag."
"What the bleedin hell is laser tag, and what's the mortality rate?"
Buffy rocked with silent laughter.
"Let me get this straight. You shoot each other with fake laser guns?"
"Um... basically, yes."
"Unacceptable. Take her to a decent restaurant. She won't be playing with guns, got it?"
"I... Got it."
Finally sitting on the couch next to the boy, he said quietly, "How good a hunter are you, Andrew?"
"Ummm... Not really good. I... Don't hunt."
With great intent, he leaned forward and intoned cryptically, "And how good do you think I am?"
Attempting to not swallow his tongue, Andrew stuttered a reply. "Um... Good?"
"Precisely. So, I don't think there's a reason why Dawn should be out late and worrying all the people who love her, hmmm? She's got a curfew for a reason. Are we getting a word picture here?"
"B... I... Yes. Def... Definitely got the word picture."
"What picture?" Buffy said perkily as she walked into the room.
"A word picture, luv. This is Andrew. Andrew O'Reilley. At least, I think. He didn't sound so bloody sure."
She frowned at Spike. Then turned a charming smile on the nervous boy. "Hi. I'm Buffy, Dawn's sister. This is William. Our over-protective family friend. He's all bark. No bite in that one."
Behind her back, Spike snarled silently, and had the pleasure of seeing the ponce blanche.
"I'll go get Niblet," he said cheerily, his duster turning in the air behind him.
Chatting idly while Spike fetched Dawn, she looked at the staircase where the two were descending. Dawn smiled shyly at Andrew, nonchalantly shoving an elbow into a far-too-close Spike.
Roundly ignoring it, the three said their goodbyes, Buffy reminding Dawn of her curfew.
"Eleven thirty."
"I know," Dawn said, eyebrows raised in a strictly teenaged, 'ooooh my God. I get it, shut up already, puh-leeeeease?' way.
Spike's teeth got even longer and sharper looking, glistening in the porch light, feeling very deprived of Dawn's hug and kiss; feeling very defensive, and very very overprotective.
After walking down the steps with the boy Spike had *obviously* considered unworthy, she turned, whispered something to Andrew, and came back up the porch stairs, embracing Buffy quickly, and smiled at Spike.
He smiled back, sadly. Nodded at her to go back to her boy. She held his face between her hands, kissed his forehead softly, then nuzzled her nose to his. "I love you. See you at 11:30. You better wait up."
With that, the Niblet joined her date, and the world didn't look so bleak after all to a certain bleached blond supposed monster without a heart.
And the superhuman slayer beside him was noticing just how heavily she relied on what she was trained to hate.
And the teenaged girl in the second-hand car with a nice boy from art class got a perfect teenaged moment.
End, Chapter 4.
Unadulterated fluff? I hope so. Oh, more to come, more to come. Homecoming, Buffy and Spike. hahahahaaaaaaaaaaaa... PLEASE send me ideas. Please? And r&r. For real. Please? Thanks. Again, own nothing. More to come.
*MWAH!* Tequila Sunrise
I own nothing, Joss is all. I love the Shakira song, "Whenever, wherever." This has no bearing on this chapter at all... To my big brother, Marty. I love you. We kick every type of booty. Thanks for always looking out for me, even when I didn't particularly need it. 'Nuff said. lol
The banging on his apartment door shook Xander out of a sound sleep, but didn't even slightly stir his gently snoring fiancee. Groaning, he pulled on a pair of boxers and stumbled to the door.
"Apocalypse?" he called groggily.
"It's gonna be damn near close," an accented voice snarled.
"What's the matter?" He swung the door open quickly, looking concerned-ly around the bleached blonde vampire, who, even standing, managed to look like a caged, angry animal.
"Dawn's little wanker boyfriend is picking her up tomorrow night. Well..." he glanced at a clock on Xander's wall. "Tonight. Can I come in?"
Inviting him in with a sweep of his arm, Xander groaned, "Tomorrow night? And you're here at... 2 am? Why should I not be staking you?"
"'Cuz I don't get the little wanker. He's not even awake. He's sixteen years old, and it's a Friday night, and he's asleep in his l'il bed, all tucked in and... He's too... clean smelling. I'm missing something. I never miss something." He began to pace, his duster billowing out dramatically behind him, swirling with his turns.
Collapsing on a near-by couch, Xander had to give him points for impressiveness. But, after a hundred years of unlife, if you didn't know how to make a statement, you never would. "Maybe," he ground out, rubbing a hand over his eyes, "he IS a good kid. **I** was a good kid when I was his age."
Spike stopped mid-pace and sneered. "Yeah... probably just dreaming about Red. Or Buffy... Or both."
Xander's blush belied his denials.
"Whatever, Harris. I don't really care. But if that wanker lays a hand on my Niblet..."
"I'll kill him," Xander interrupted.
"The bleedin' hell you will. The bugger's mine. I swear... chip or no, he goes down."
"Yeah..." They sat, brooding.
Anya found them that way an hour later, both glaring into space, grunting at each other occasionally.
"Ummm.... What's going on?"
"Dawn's got a date tonight. That little worm."
"But, Xander..." Anya was confused. "I thought this was big part of her... adolescent phase. Will she have sex like we have sex?"
"NO!!" Spike and Xander shouted at the same time.
"That girl isn't allowed to have sex until..." Spike paused. "Never. Never. She's not allowed to have sex. Not till I die." He smiled smugly. "And I'm immortal. So haha to that hormonal little wanker."
Rolling her eyes, Anya went to make coffee.
Dawn viewed herself critically in the standing mirror in her room, Buffy at her side.
"I like it."
"Me, too," Buffy agreed. It was, indeed, a cute outfit. Granted, it was hers, but it still looked great on Dawn. She frowned. The tan pants and black stretchy lace top looked a little too good. "You're never allowed to wear that again."
"Why?" Dawn turned puzzled eyes on Buffy.
"Because. I can't have you going around looking better in my clothes than I do."
Dawn just grinned. Only ten more minutes till Andrew came...
"Hey, Buffy.... Spike said he was gonna be here."
"He will be then. He's probably... running late." 'And a background check on poor Andrew.'
The door flew open and Spike rushed in, then upstairs. "Is that little punk here?"
"No. He should be here in a few minutes."
As the words fell out of her mouth, the doorbell rang. Spike glared in the general direction of the downstairs once, then began to shove the door shut on Dawn, who was trying to get downstairs.
"Stay put. Buffy and I need to meet with him, you can come down when I call for you."
Buffy smiled sympathetically, and closed the door, Dawn stuck in her room.
Buffy stayed in the kitchen, letting Spike handle the first round. Smiled at his brassed off British tone as he ripped the door open. She listened intently, shamelessly eavesdropping.
Spike did indeed rip the door open, but not before pasting on his most intimidating human glare, his teeth still human, but... eerily elongated.
After opening the door, his scarred eyebrow arched in feigned interest, he stood, silent.
"Hello," the boy said uncertainly. This was indeed the boy Spike had smelled the night before. His... clean-ness tainted by the fear dripping off of him now. At one time, this was *the* most pleasurable experience of his unlife. Scare a poor innocent, then eat them. Yum. But now, it was business.
"Andrew?"
"Ye-yes." He fidgeted, still on the doorstep.
"Well, are you coming in or not? Andrew what?" Spike swung the door open to let the ponce walk in before him, to the living room.
"O'Reilley?"
"Hmmm..." Immediately disliking the boy on the basis his last name bore to Buffy's former, his eyes glinted gold. "And where might you be taking Dawn, Andrew? The movies? Dinner? Lover's Lane?" He stood over the sitting boy.
"No! I mean... No."
"Where then?"
"Laser tag."
"What the bleedin hell is laser tag, and what's the mortality rate?"
Buffy rocked with silent laughter.
"Let me get this straight. You shoot each other with fake laser guns?"
"Um... basically, yes."
"Unacceptable. Take her to a decent restaurant. She won't be playing with guns, got it?"
"I... Got it."
Finally sitting on the couch next to the boy, he said quietly, "How good a hunter are you, Andrew?"
"Ummm... Not really good. I... Don't hunt."
With great intent, he leaned forward and intoned cryptically, "And how good do you think I am?"
Attempting to not swallow his tongue, Andrew stuttered a reply. "Um... Good?"
"Precisely. So, I don't think there's a reason why Dawn should be out late and worrying all the people who love her, hmmm? She's got a curfew for a reason. Are we getting a word picture here?"
"B... I... Yes. Def... Definitely got the word picture."
"What picture?" Buffy said perkily as she walked into the room.
"A word picture, luv. This is Andrew. Andrew O'Reilley. At least, I think. He didn't sound so bloody sure."
She frowned at Spike. Then turned a charming smile on the nervous boy. "Hi. I'm Buffy, Dawn's sister. This is William. Our over-protective family friend. He's all bark. No bite in that one."
Behind her back, Spike snarled silently, and had the pleasure of seeing the ponce blanche.
"I'll go get Niblet," he said cheerily, his duster turning in the air behind him.
Chatting idly while Spike fetched Dawn, she looked at the staircase where the two were descending. Dawn smiled shyly at Andrew, nonchalantly shoving an elbow into a far-too-close Spike.
Roundly ignoring it, the three said their goodbyes, Buffy reminding Dawn of her curfew.
"Eleven thirty."
"I know," Dawn said, eyebrows raised in a strictly teenaged, 'ooooh my God. I get it, shut up already, puh-leeeeease?' way.
Spike's teeth got even longer and sharper looking, glistening in the porch light, feeling very deprived of Dawn's hug and kiss; feeling very defensive, and very very overprotective.
After walking down the steps with the boy Spike had *obviously* considered unworthy, she turned, whispered something to Andrew, and came back up the porch stairs, embracing Buffy quickly, and smiled at Spike.
He smiled back, sadly. Nodded at her to go back to her boy. She held his face between her hands, kissed his forehead softly, then nuzzled her nose to his. "I love you. See you at 11:30. You better wait up."
With that, the Niblet joined her date, and the world didn't look so bleak after all to a certain bleached blond supposed monster without a heart.
And the superhuman slayer beside him was noticing just how heavily she relied on what she was trained to hate.
And the teenaged girl in the second-hand car with a nice boy from art class got a perfect teenaged moment.
End, Chapter 4.
Unadulterated fluff? I hope so. Oh, more to come, more to come. Homecoming, Buffy and Spike. hahahahaaaaaaaaaaaa... PLEASE send me ideas. Please? And r&r. For real. Please? Thanks. Again, own nothing. More to come.
*MWAH!* Tequila Sunrise